Who Likes the Rain?
by Norman Jayden
Summary: When the assistant to the CEO of Abstergo is assassinated, newly minted Agent Norman Jayden is sent to investigate. It doesn't take long for him to discover the Templars and Assassins, and is thrown into their war. Which master will he serve? His own.
1. Knife Through the Darkness

**Chapter 1: Knife through the Darkness**

**(****Heavy Rain and Norman Jayden © Quantic Dream**

**Assassins Creed © Ubisoft)**

**Date: August 14, 1998 **

**Local time: 2:18 A.M.**

**Location: 21 Club, New York City**

**Weather: Heavy Rain, 30 MPH Winds**

**For the average American, the twenty first birthday is a time of celebration as the person in question has finally crossed the last check mark in the path to adult hood. That said person can now do anything they like as long as it remains in the legal parameters of the law, including going out for a drink.**

**Norman Jayden went to a bar for his twenty first birthday, but not to get a drink. He was there to investigate the death of Aubrey Jacobs.**

Our story begins on August 14, 1998, at a well known bar in New York City. It was early in the morning, the sun no where close to rising yet. The city that never slept did so this night, a monsoon having knocked out the power for several miles in the area, the bar being dead center of the dark zone. None of this stopped newly minted F.B.I. Agent Norman Jayden, who's first mission was to investigate the death of Abstergo CEO's main assistant, Audrey Jacobs. With the appointment of the new Director eight years ago, cases such as these would have largely gone ignored.

But when Abstergo industries got something, they got it, meaning Norman Jayden had to be dragged out of bed by his phone at four in the morning and make the forty minute drive to the bar through wind and rain. Perhaps his hatred of the cold and rain would stem from this day, the bad memories that would come from it forever tainting the already dark climate. Or perhaps he just didn't like the cold. Whatever the reason was it did cause him to be a bit sour as he got out of his car and walk over the the scene of the crime, walking first to the police man stationed there.

"Should I say good evening or good morning officer?" Norman asked, startling the officer from his nap as he shot off the wall he was leaning against. At first the agent had decided he was not going to let a lack of sleep ruin his attitude. Apparently a sleeping on the job officer was all that was required to finish the job though.

"Who's th- oh! It's you, the FBI guy. I was beginning to wonder when you would show up."

"In your dreams perhaps. Please tell me you actually studied the corpse on my way here."

"I was supposed to do that?" The officer questioned, causing Norman to hiss air as he held back a stream of curse words. Norman remembered that only new officers stayed up that early in the morning in Greenwich Village.

"_Abstergo and Cifer aren't going to be happy about this... yet neither am I. Isn't the only point of having police helping FBI agents is for them to get us our coffee? Sure would make my job ten times easier to have them out of my way right now." _Norman thought as he walked towards the covered body that rested on the footstep of the bar. At this point he was already drenched, forgetting to bring a umbrella due to the early hour in which he was forced to wake up at. The officer followed like a dog following his master, yet only managed to take about eight steps before he slipped forward.

Norman purposely let him fall, still pist about the lack of coffee.

"Dude! What the f-"

"Please shut up unless you have something relevant to say." Norman moaned as he got onto a knee, ruining his black pant leg in a mixture of dirt, water, and blood. It clung to him like a metal spoon to a overly large magnet. Yet this he ignored as he threw the white tarp off the corpse, the covering blowing away down the street in the wind.

"One stab wound to the neck, near instant death... it wasn't a mugging since her purse and personal belongs are still here, meaning that the murderer probably had it out for her. Probably a vengeful environmentalist who is pist about a rain forest getting torn down by Abstergo. Any witnesses?" Norman explained aloud to the recovering officer. The young man paused rubbing his nose for several seconds to reply.

"No witnesses since this area has been mostly emptied out, but the corpse was found by a bartender who was checking the store to see if it had been ransacked while the power is out. He's waiting inside with a portable lamp right now. His car is the white jeep across the street."

"Thats... good officer. You did more then I expected." Norman replied, surprised. The officer in question shook his head.

"I didn't do it. Officer McCarthy who was the first to arrive on the scene and made the call to you found that out and told me about it before he left."

"Well... points for being honest then I guess... shall we go see Mr...?" Norman responded, extending the last word of the sentence for several seconds. The purpose was obvious, Norman asking what was the name of the bartender. The point was missed by the oblivious man.

"Mr. who?"

"The name of the freaking bartender!" Norman yelled, his voice bouncing around the street. The officer finally got what the man meant.

"Oh! His name is Adam Miles."

Normally polite, the now utterly annoyed Mr. Jayden simply walked past the man and entered the club. True to the officers word, the bartender was inside wiping down a table, the only thing illuminating the room was a gas lamp that sat on the counter, further immersing Norman into the old fashioned restaurant. He would have liked to ponder about that if he wasn't to busy studying the man.

"_Five feet ten inches, age between twenty seven and thirty two, military buzz cut, brown eyes, heavy scarring large Grey hooded sweatshirt, Grey sweat pants... a lot can be noted._

_The heavy scarring however indicates probable military history, but the fact that he's working in a bar and lacks the usual mass soldiers have leads me to believe that he worked as a mercenary for a PMC unit and had a falling out since he's still in his prime_

_The sneer on his face coupled with him cleaning a already spotless glass with him tapping his foot indicates either a short temper or a lack of patience. Due to a combat history, I would guess the former... or it could just be that the officer pist him off._

_Track pants and a heavy baggy sweatshirt is the perfect outfit for one who wants to hide several weapons yet have free leg movement. At the same time, it could be he threw them on since they were the easiest thing to put on... but his story is leading me to believe otherwise. Let's see if I can make him crack."_

"Good evening Mr. Miles. I hoped I haven't kept you away long from your family." Norman greeted as he moved to the table that Adam sat at. The latter was shocked at what Norman said.

"What! How did you know I was m-"

"Wedding ring sir. Your wedding ring gave it away." Norman yawned, taking a seat across from the man. Even though darkness covered the room, the ring shone from the reflected light like the moon in the night sky above them. The explanation at least calmed the bartender down.

"Oh... I forgot about that. But to answer your question your idiot cop has kept me here for two hours now... waiting for you no less."

Norman shrugged. "Sorry about that, but I generally don't wake up this early... nor do you since your just as tired as I. Could you tell me why did you come here this early in the morning?" The FBI agent asked. The other man shrugged, copying Norman movement for movement now.

"Like I told your buddy out there, my boss wanted me to check the place to see if it has been robbed during the power outage. Is something wrong with that?" He mocked, setting the glass he was cleaning down and picking up another. Jayden in return stood up, stretched his arms out before moving behind his chair and resting his hands on it.

"No, nothing is wrong with the fact that you checked the restaurant. What is wrong is the fact that you came between one and two in the morning to do it. A normal person who was actually told to check something usually waits until the day to do it, not when everyone should be asleep. Now could you really tell me why you came here?"

Adam was shocked for several seconds, mumbling various things as Norman simply remained standing. The FBI agent had the feeling that Adam had killed the woman outside, he just needed a confession from him. If the agent kept up his current success, then he would find out quickly if the man really did do the deed.

"I'm not lying! I was sent to check the restaurant by my boss... I was just up this early and wanted to get it out of the way." Adam finally managed to say, regaining his composure.

"I suppose that's understandable... to a jury. But since you continue to BS me let's move onto to something else. Have you ever met the woman outside before in your life?"

Adam shook his head, quicker then Norman expected. The agent got the feeling that indicated the man was ready for that question.

" Audrey Jacobs? Never seen her before."

"_Excellent. Time to gamble."_ Norman thought as he starred into Adam's eyes for several seconds as he thought about if it was really worth risking a gamble. It didn't take long for him to decide it was.

"Bull crap. The officer never told you her name. How could you know her name if you've never seen her before?"

Adam broke the glass he was holding, glass stabbing his hand as his hand squeezed into a fist. The shock on his face was all Norman needed.

"I uh... um... I... I overheard the officer say her name!" He tried to explain, his eyes darting left and right. Norman thought to himself how easy this was, but knew that this wasn't necessarily over yet. He still had one more thing to do.

"Mr. Miles, you are under arrest for the murder of Audrey Jacobs. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" Norman asked, grabbing a set of handcuffs and walking over to the man and waiting behind him, wanting for the man to say yes before he grabbed him.

Adam simply stared at the table for several seconds, a mixture of fury and confusion on his face. Then he grinned and flexed his hand.

_Snick_

"What was th-" Norman asked, answering his own question almost immediately. The silver blade that appeared from the bartenders sleeve shone like a star if his diamond ring was the moon, the blade stained red from the blood of the woman outside. The agent immediately jumped back as he drew his gun, the blade coming for his neck. If he was a second slower the blade would have pierced him and it would have been the end of Norman Jayden, but instead it only cut deep into his right cheek. The sound of the agents screams couldn't be heard as a gunshot rung out.

"You... you fool. She... was a Templar... but then... again... your probably already knew that since your living off of their money." The bullet had pierced Adam's lung, his death now assured. He managed to stay afoot to finish that sentence, but now he dropped to his knees. Norman screamed again as the blade cut more of his cheek as it pulled out from his flesh, but quickly managed to regain control as he rushed over to the dying man.

"Templar? What are you talking about?" Norman growled, kneeling beside the man as he cupped his bleeding cheek with his hand. The killer, the Assassin as you have probably figured out by now, simply smiled.

"Funny that you'll help us... in the long run. Go here... and your questions... will... be... An...sw...e-"

The man chocked a final time and dropped his head back, dead. His final action was to unfold his other hand, the one he was holding the glass earlier with. Now stained with blood, it was a strip of white stained red paper with a series of black numbers on it. Norman quickly grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket just as the police officer outside stepped in.

"I heard a gun shot. Is ev- Holy S-"

"He killed Audrey Jacobs and tried to kill me but I managed to shoot him before he could. The murder weapon is the knife attached to his wrist. Can you get your superiors and clean this up for me? I need to get to a hospital."

The officer only nodded as Norman quickly ran out of the door. The FBI agent had hoped that he would finish this case quickly so he could get what he considered a 'real' assignment.

Unbeknown to him, his wish had come true. The murder of Audrey Jacobs may have been solved, but the case wasn't over yet. In fact, his story had just begun.

**Authors note: **

**Not much to say about this chapter other then several things that you might have missed. The first is that in the story, Adam is (technically was since he's dead) Desmond's father. The latter will not make a appearance in this story since hes still about ten, eleven years old at the time of this story.**

**The other thing I wanted to point out was this is how Norman gets the scar on his cheek in my stories. Otherwise I have nothing else to say at this time. I might make this note longer at a later date, but probably not. With that done, read onto the next chapter or leave a comment/review!**


	2. New Wounds Opened

**Chapter 2: New Wounds Opened**

**(Heavy Rain and Norman Jayden © Quantic Dream**

**Assassins Creed © Ubisoft**

**All characters listed in Cameo: Not owned by me.)**

**Date: August 14, 1998 **

**Local time: 6:02 A.M.**

**Location: Elmhurst Hospital, New York City**

**Weather: Light Rain, 10 MPH Winds**

"**Your a lucky man Mr. Jayden. It looks like you'll leave today with only a few stitches and light scarring. Any deeper and the knife would have torn your check open."**

Following the event at the bar, the injured Norman Jayden had immediately driven to the nearest open hospital he could find, that being Elmhurst Hospital. It took several hours of waiting before they finally called his name, but now after four hours since he had received the wound he was finally getting it fixed.

The fact that it took four hours instead of one like he expected was what baffled him at the moment.

"I've been lucky for a few weeks doctor. The question is how long will it last before it runs out... so are we done here?" Norman asked, the older gentlemen in front of him cleaning and putting away his tools. The white haired man nodded.

"Indeed we are. Before you go though I just need to remind you of a few things. First, try to avoid straining that cheek through any means for about a week. Do not wash it, do not poke it, try not to even chew on that side of your mouth until next Friday. Otherwise the numbing on your cheek should disappear over the course of the next few hours. Your now free to go."

Norman nodded, expecting as much as he stood from the seat he was put in. With a final handshake, he left the room and exited the hospital, putting his suit coat collar up as the light rain beat across his body. Instead of going to his car parked in front of the building, he walked down the sidewalk a few feet and stopped at the pay phone.

"_63.6686793, -155.6607975. It's probably latitude and longitude coordinates, the only question is where._ _Cifer could probably tell me as I update him on the situation."_ Norman thought as he inserted quarter after quarter into the machine. He stopped at ten dollars and placed his call, shivering now from the rain. The call was picked up after the second ring.

"This is Director Cifer. Which agent is this?" A melancholy voice asked. Norman found it slightly funny that the voice he was talking to was colder then the rain that pelted him at that moment, but decided it probably wasn't worth pointing out.

"This is Norman Jayden."

"Ah yes, I was wondering when you would call. Have you watched the morning news yet?" The voice asked, Norman frowning. Already he could sense several news casters questioning the events that occurred at the bar. He had hoped he could have reached the FBI director before he found out what had happened through the news, but he was prepared just as much in case he couldn't.

"I haven't but I can guess what it's about. The dead man, Adam Miles, tried to kill me and managed to stab me through my cheek. I've been getting it patched up at the hospital since." Norman explained, hoping the explanation would satisfy his boss. It did.

"Ah, very well then. The press should be calmed by the 'kill or be killed' explanation, although several politicians and the C.I.A will pester me for a while. I'll keep them off your back, but I also need to know how you knew Adam killed the woman."

"His story didn't ring true. Not only did it have several inconsistencies, but several parts about it I knew he was outright lying. Also, his hidden blade he attempted to kill me with was bloodied before he struck me. I can guarantee it was Jacobs blood."

Norman imagined his boss nodding to no one in particular as was his habit, then turning back from his window to write several notes down. The sound of a chair turning confirmed Norman's guess.

"Excellent. With the case solved and Abstergo off my back once again, I think it's safe to say your job in New York is finished. You can return to D.C."

Sighing, Norman took out the blood stained strip of paper, watching as it started to turn white again as the rain pelted it. He knew if he told his boss about it he would be sent to find something he was never meant to see and his life would be so much better if he closed the case now. But curiosity always kills the cat, Norman being no exception.

"Actually, before he died the killer mentioned that Jacobs was a Knight Templar and we were living off of their wallet. Would you know anything about that?"

"What? I know nothing about the F.B.I being connected to the Templars. To use the vernacular of the general population, are you sure he wasn't a 'conspiracy nut job'?"

Norman slightly smiled, relieved that his boss wasn't hiding something from him. His boss was generally emotionless, so to hear actual surprise in his voice was simply confirming he knew nothing.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was, but he also gave me a sheet with a set of numbers, probably latitude and longitude. Since your at your desk, could you tell me where latitude 63.6686793°, longitude:-155.6607975° is at?"

His boss went silent as the only two things Norman could hear was the typing of a keyboard and the rain bouncing off of him. It only took several seconds for his pale skinned boss to find the location.

"It's in the middle of Alaska, the closet road being over a hundred miles away." Cifer answered, a questioning tone in his voice. Several alarms went off in Norman's and Cifer's heads.

"The perfect place to hide something." Norman thought aloud.

"Exactly what I was thinking. It appears that your going to Alaska Jayden."

"Great. I told you how I hate the cold, right?" Norman whined, irritated. He had the feeling that he would get sent somewhere cold if he followed this path. He just didn't guess it would be the coldest state of the country he lived in.

"Whether you do or do not doesn't really matter at this point. I'm scheduling a flight for you from the La Guardia Airport that will drop you off two miles from that point. You'll make one stop during the course of the flight in order for you to pick up some equipment and a snow mobile so you can ride the rest of the way in. Any other questions?"

Norman thought about, dozens of questions buzzing in his mind. He knew his boss would only answer at most three before he told him to figure the rest of them out for himself, so he picked the three most relevant.

"First off, if it turns out that something is there at the coordinate, should I assume that Abstergo is connected to the Templars or do you think it was chance Jacobs was apart of both companies?"

"No, if something is there it all but confirms my suspicions." The answer surprised Norman, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise from habit.

"What suspicions" Until this morning I never suspected anything of them."

"Meaning you haven't been reading between the lines enough. First, Abstergo is the worlds largest corporation in the world and is the most profited company in every country including America and China. Second, it has completely monopolized the pharmaceutical industry in Italy, Greece, Germany, and France. It would have done so in America if it weren't for Umbrella and laws against such a thing. Third, in the course of sixty years it has operated, it has never been audited nor has it come under investigation for anything, also winning every lawsuit that is filed against it."

"That does make me suspicious, but it could just be they're paying off the government. It doesn't mean that they're connected to a long dead religious order." Norman replied, starting to think his boss might be overly paranoid. The next response crushed that idea.

"Which brings me to evidence file number Four. Currently, Abstergo industries is in talks with the United Nations as their group wants to launch a satellite that has the capability to broadcast a signal to the entire world simultaneously. Their reason is that they'll use it for their own line of telecommunications, when Abstergo has never produced nor will produce their own phones in the near future. Therefore, the question must be asked..."

"Why would a primarily pharmaceutical company want to launch a satellite into space?" Norman finished Cifer's statement, putting the pieces together. He had a feeling he would be the one to find the answer to that question.

"Anything else Mr. Jayden?" His boss asked, returning Norman from his thoughts to reality.

"At this time, no. If you could get a satellite phone left at the equipment drop off so I can contact you again when I arrive in Alaska, it would be great."

"Understood. Your flight is also now ready with your pilot waiting for you at the front gate of the airport. Please head straight there."

"Wait, hold on for just a moment. What about the other case I was supposed to work on? The reason I came to New York in the first place?" Norman asked, remembering that he was supposed to meet another agent downtown to help investigate the kidnapping. He guessed the next response before it was even started.

"This case should turn out to be far more important then the other case. Also, Agent Flowers is more then capable of handling herself. I'm sure she'll get along just fine."

"If you say so. I'll call you once I arrive. Anything else?" Norman replied, noticing that the phone call was about to expire and the fact that he was out of quarters.

"A couple things. Good luck, and don't get over your head. All of my advisors said I was losing it when I decided to make you a special agent when you just got out of the academy, but I still say otherwise. Don't disappoint me."

"I w-" The phone went dead, a voice saying insert more money as Norman frowned. With a no other reason to stand in the rain he walked back towards the hospital and stepped into the rented car, driving straight to the airport. Instead of turning on his radio as was habit, he simply entertained himself with his thoughts.

"_First week on the job and instead of hunting down a kidnapper in New York, something that is expected of a F.B.I agent, I get to be sent to the worst state in America so I can see if anything was hidden in the most barren part of the wasteland by the most powerful corporation in the world that may or may not be connected to a long thought dead religious order that only comes up now a days in the ideas of conspiracy idiots._

_Could be worst. I could be a piano teacher like mom was or a thief like dad... I should see a therapist. Maybe I wouldn't get stuck in situations like these if I did."_

The ride was shorter then he remembered as Norman realized he was already turning into the parking lot for his destination as he finished that last thought. He blinked several times, realizing he was getting tired and slowing down. He decided he was going to sleep the whole ride over, it was not just the problem of finding his driver. That problem solved himself when a man started walking towards him as he parked his car.

"Are you the man taking me to Alaska?" Norman asked as he stepped out of the rented car and leaned against it. The man, clean cut and shaved to the stubble to match the appearance of most airline captains, nodded.

"Indeed I am Mr. Jayden. The cargo plane is waiting for us at the runway as we speak. All of it's been cleared out already for you and the package we'll pick up in Canada, so we can head out right now if you wish to do so."

"Unless we need to get something else, I'm good to go."

The other man shook his head and began walking, Norman following swiftly behind him. Neither of them spoke a word as they crossed through the airport, the only time either of them stopped was when Norman grabbed a cup of coffee from a Starbucks cafe located near the exit terminal the two were headed to. With that out of the way, the two exited the airport and onto the run way, a giant green cargo plane waiting for the two.

"I'm thinking about sleeping on the flight over, so is a bench of some sort installed in the back of the plane?" Norman asked as the two waited for the back to open, the door slowly dropping. The pilot nodded in return.

"Your boss said you would and asked specifically for one to be put in. A pillow should also be on one of the benches for you to use." The man happily replied.

"That wasn't necessary... but thanks." Norman muttered as the ramp hit the ground. He strode into the An-32 plane, tearing off his soaked and bloodied suit coat as he sat down, the coat hitting the ground about the same time the ramp finished closing. A few light bulbs attached to the roof of the plane was the only illumination in the large open space meant for fifty passengers. Norman was happy with this, glad he was alone and could sleep in quiet. He immediately laid down on the new pillow bought at the last minute, not even bothering to tear off the plastic covering from it as he closed his eyes.

Seconds later, he entered into his deep slumber.

**Date: August 7, 1998, Seven Days prior**

**Local time: 12:49 A.M.**

**Location: J. Edgar Hoover Building**

**Weather: Clear Skies**

"**So guys, what do you think of the new guy?"**

"**Other then the fact that he's hotter then you?"**

"**Other then that!"**

Seven days prior to Norman Jayden's arrival in New York, it was a mostly normal day for the FBI. The agents not investigating at the moment sat at lunch at their headquarters, the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington D.C.

The conversation above was happening between the FBI directors more elite agents, all whom had been recruited since Mr. Cifer had taken the agency over in 1990. The youngest of them all was Special Agent Scott Pilgrim, recruited three years ago at the age of twenty straight out of collage. Among the others were Special Agents Ramona Flowers, Link McCartney, Vaati Sinclair, Itachi Uchiha, and head of research and development Heinz Doofenshmirtz. The man they were referring to was a alone but happy Norman Jayden, who sat in the corner of the room reading a book in one hand while stirring his cup of coffee in another.

"I like him. He's not the type to start a conversation, but he'll certainly continue one if you start one with him." Heinz commented as he grabbed a nearby screw, working on some invention who's name would most certainly end with Inator.

"Yea, but doesn't he seem cocky?" Scott asked.

"I think your just jealous that your not Ulquiorra's favorite pet anymore." Ramona teased.

"As if he ever was in the first place." Link added, his long blond hair making it impossible to see if he was sleeping or not.

"Hey! Is today make fun of Scoot Pilgrim day?" Scott complained.

"No, that's tomorrow. We're just warming up today." Vaati replied. Almost the entire group burst into laughter as Scott gave a pouting face. He quickly recovered.

"But back to the discussion at hand, how did Norman get made a special agent so fast? He only finished the academy two weeks ago and he's already been made a special agent! It took me two years as a junior investigator before I was allowed that rank!" Scott groaned.

"That's because what you make up for lack of brains is skill. Meanwhile, Norman Jayden has shown to not only be a tactical genius, but a skilled gunner. It doesn't hurt to have connections in high places to... would you like to know the full details on why Mr. Jayden is considered better then you?" Itachi yawned, his face hidden behind a copy of the morning newspaper.

"And the deputy director speaks! But please all powerful Itachi, please inform us why you like Norman better then me." Scott mocked, several members of the group smirking at this. Itachi first responded by flipping the page of his newspaper, ignoring everyone for a half of minute as he read. He spoke again right when Scott opened his mouth.

"First off, he spends his time reading The Prince instead of playing Tetris. Can you tell me who wrote he Prince?" Itachi asked.

"Of course I can! It was... … … that guy. The famous one!" Scott shouted in confidence, causing several emotions to go through the crowd. Ramona would have laughed her head off if it was possible, while Vaati appeared disgusted at the fact that the young man didn't know who his idol was.

"To knock you back off your pedestal, it was Niccolo Machiavelli. To move on, did you know that our boss has taken the liberty to assign what he calls 'X-factors' to our attributes in order to better judge who is suited for what missions?" Itachi asked.

"Of course I do. Ulquiorra told me I have a X-Factor of ninety seven for hand to hand and melee weapon combat, the record for the entire department since it's on a scale of zero to one hundred." Scott boasted.

"Then let me tell you about some of the X-Factors that Norman has. In intelligence, he scored a eighty seven. I scored a ninety one. Ulquiorra has a ninety four."

"What did Scott get? A forty two?" Link joked.

"Close. Forty six." Itachi replied, Ramona gasping.

"What! I can't date a idiot!" She cried, putting on a grin as she finished her sentence. Scott simply rolled his eyes.

"Big deal. He may be smart, but what else does he have?"

"I have a eighty six with guns. Ulquiorra has, again, a ninety four. Norman has a one hundred. I have never seen him miss a free standing target, and his accuracy drops by only three percent to moving targets. It goes without saying that he currently holds the record for highest points in the X-Factor for guns." Itachi flipped another page as he finished explaining, the other members of the table stunned, the exception being Scott.

"Alright... so he's skilled enough to be a special agent. What was this connections in high places part?" Scott grumbled.

"You want to know who trained him and recommended Norman for the agency? S.T.A.R.S captain and Ulquiorra's advisor Albert Wesker."

"What? Your telling me he was trained by Wesker?" Link replied, snapping awake from the slumber he had fallen into.

"Not just trained, apparently the connection is much deeper then that. Ulquiorra won't inform me of the details, while Norman dodges the question every time I ask." Itachi explained, curiosity in his voice as he spoke.

"So... he's Wesker's gay l-" Scott was about to joke when he felt someone slap the back of his hand.

"I assure you Mr. Pilgrim. Norman Jayden is not homosexual if you were looking for a partner as you come out of the closet."

At that moment, the FBI director Ulquiorra had decided to show up, having overheard most of the conversation from a distance and deciding to intervene now. Although there was room at the table, he decided it was better if he leaned against a pillar in order to maintain his authoritative image.

"Boss! You hired Norman, could you please let our group know something about him before my girlfriend leaves for Mr. Perfect." Scott pleaded.

"I'll let you know of several Pilgrim. First, he scored a twenty seven on the hand to hand combat X-Factor. Second, he is incredibly shy and scored a thirty three on the social skills X-Factor. Third, he has a horrible fear of heights that makes it hard for him to climb a single flight of stairs. Couple this all with anger management issues and a obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to work, you have a workaholic F.B.I special agent. Yet at the end of they day, he's the better agent then you Scott. Want to know why?"

"I don't think I want to." Scott joked.

"You don't get that choice. The reason he's better then you because he's brilliant while your a bloody idiot!" Ulquiorra yelled for the entire cafeteria to hear, before storming away. It took a minute for everyone to turn their attention back to what they were doing, the incident quickly forgotten.

"Crap. Who pist him off?" Scott asked, leaning back into his chair as smiling at the fact that he had finally managed to get some emotion from his boss, ignoring the fact that it was a negative one.

"I don't know. Something about some incident in Raccoon City. The details are still sketchy and I'll get in trouble if I mention anymore... and lunch time is over. Time to get back to work guys. We don't want Cifer to be pist off even more." Itachi muttered, rolling the newspaper up and throwing it into a nearby trash can. Everyone at the table shot off in different directions as the clock struck one, the rest of the individuals in the cafeteria following after. The only exception was the newly appointed agent himself, Norman Jayden.

"Well... that was fun. I didn't know F.B.I agents gossiped like a bunch of house wives!" Norman laughed as he continued to read, glad that the room was finally empty. He had listened to the entire conversation from above to the end, able to make out what was being said by focusing on the group. He had sacrificed time to read all to hear what other people thought of him, but he felt that he didn't waste his time.

In fact, he felt that the conversation was quite... illuminating.

**Date: August 14, 1998, **

**Local time: 10:47 A.M.**

**Location: Regina, Canada**

**Weather: Light Snow**

**A flood of light and a loud hiss of escaping air was what Norman Jayden awoke to, cold air penetrating his dirtied white collar shirt. He shivered as he walked down the ramp to the snow laden ground outside, a snowmobile with a large box in the seat being the only thing that awaited him outside.**

"I'll get the snowmobile in Mr. Jayden. You can go ahead and see whats in the box." The energetic pilot told Norman, pushing the two foot by two foot package off of the vehicle as he began to push it up the ramp. Norman in return immediately rushed over to the package and opened the flaps, the box having several items, the item on top being a note.

"Norman, inside should be a suppressor for your Glock 22, a satellite phone that should work anywhere, a backpack that you should fit this all into, a white parka with matching pants for you to put over your outfit, and a grappling hook with fifty feet of rope. If you find something at your destination, lethal methods have been authorized. But try to get in and out silently. The less Abstergo knows about us at this point, the better. Otherwise, good luck.

P.S: The CEO of Abstergo thanked you for solving his assistant's murder and came to thank you personally, but see as you weren't here he told me to leave you a message and transferred two hundred dollars to your bank account. I was utterly delighted at how oblivious he was to what was going on. Please don't mess anything up and ruin my day for me.

-Ulquiorra Cifer, Director of the FBI."

"_Ah... I didn't know you cared Cifer... but frankly you need to stop acting like I'm going to screw this up. I haven't failed a case yet... I also haven't finished a case yet either. Some birthday this is turning out to be."_

Sighing, Norman took the box with him back into the plane as he passed the descending pilot, the snowmobile loaded and locked. With no other reason to remain in Canada, the ramp raised itself again and within minutes the plane was back into the air, the destination Alaska.

Norman slept the whole way there.

**Authors note: A mostly filler chapter, not a lot needs to be discussed other then the numerous Cameos I put in the second half. But before I do that I need to explain why every named character has a last name. I have a huge pet peeve about important characters only getting a first name, no matter if they're a hero or a villain. I can't really explain why I have it, I just do.**

**Now, the list of cameos. Most of them with the exception of Ulquiorra are one time appearances and won't appear again unless the story is about them so don't worry if you have no idea who they are. You only need to know a little bit about Heavy Rain and Assassins Creed to understand this story.**

**Cameos: Ulquiorra Cifer as Director of the F.B.I, originates from Bleach.**

**Scott Pilgrim and Ramona Flowers as special agents for the F.B.I, originates from Scott Pilgrim.**

**Link and Vaati as special agents for the F.B.I, originates from Legend of Zelda.**

**Itachi Uchiha as deputy director for the F.B.I, originates from Naruto.**

**Heinz Doofenshmirtz as head of R&D for the F.B.I, originates from Phineas and Ferb.**

**And that's it. The next chapter we're off to Alaska. What will Norman find there? You have to read to find out.**


	3. Frozen to the Bone

**Act I: Catching up to speed**

**Chapter 3: Frozen to the Bone**

**(Heavy Rain and Norman Jayden © Quantic Dream**

**Assassins Creed © Ubisoft)**

**Date: August 14, 1998 **

**Local time: 5:17 P.M.**

**Location: Unknown location, Alaska**

**Weather: Heavy Snow storms, 30 MPH winds**

**When Norman awoke a second time to the opening of the ramp of the plane, a strong burst of wind and snow slammed into his body, a sucker punch from the northern state.**

**He decided right then and there that this was his worst birthday he would ever had.**

"We've arrived Mr. Jayden!" A voice yelled out, the bundled up form of the pilot reminding Norman of a yeti. He himself was now sliding the cloths he had picked up in Canada on, the parka and pants fitting snugly but still allowing full maneuverability.

"I don't see anything out there. How far did you land us from my destination?" Norman asked as he drug the white snowmobile into the blizzard outside, his entire form blending in with the colorless environment.

"Four miles from that direction. Your boss didn't want anyone to know you were out here." The man pointed with his gloved hand.

"I imagined so... so what about you? Are you just going to wait here?" Norman questioned as he mounted the borrowed vehicle, gripping the throttle and waiting for that final answer before he left.

"That I will. You have twenty four hours. If you don't show up after that, I will assume your dead and leave. So... try not to die."

"I wasn't planning on it. Have fun." Norman laughed as he cranked the handle, the snowmobile shooting forward and out of sight. The land was unusually flat, not a rock or a tree in sight. It reminded Norman of a desert but the comparisons stopped there, the cold reminding him where he was every second. Fortunately for Norman, the ride was only about three minutes long before the rough outline of a building appeared. Pulling in closer but doing so slowly, he saw it was a large complex with twenty foot concrete walls surrounding it, a large metal gate blocked by four guards in the front the only easy way to get in. Painted on each wall was a large red Abstergo symbol and the words 'keep out'.

Norman immediately stopped and pulled out the satellite phone lent to him. The first ring hadn't even finished when Cifer picked it up on the other side.

"Norman. You find something?" His boss immediately asked.

"Find something? I found something short of a military complex. Twenty foot concrete walls, four sniper towers with armed men inside each, not to mention the only way your supposed to get in is through the guarded gate up front. Abstergo has it's logo painted all over, so I think it's safe to say they're hiding something here that no one is supposed to see."

"I knew you would... Norman, get inside and find out what they're hiding. Also, what are the dimensions of the wall?"

"It's in the shape of a square, three hundred by three hundred yards. Probably only a single but large building inside." Norman observed.

"Good. They'll probably have ventilation shafts you can crawl through once you scale the wall."

"Um... sir? I'm kind of claustrophobic. I'll just go through a window." Norman explained.

"... just find out what they're doing." Ulquiorra growled before hanging the phone up. With that taken care of, Norman parked the snowmobile and broke into a sprint, running for the eastern and closest wall. Luckily for him, all of the snipers were either asleep or reading a book, none of them ever seeing a single person rush them in the four years they had worked there. Also due to their distractions, none of them heard the clank of a grappling hook that the F.B.I agent had thrown or the mans muttering as he simply starred at the rope.

"Alright Norman, it's only twenty feet. All you have to do is climb the rope and don't look down and you'll be fine... unless the rope breaks and you fall... breaking your back and being left for dead assuming the guards don't hear your screams as you fall... I should have thought this out better."

Cursing his boss and Abstergo, Norman grabbed the rope and began his climb up, climbing like a panicked, drunk, monkey that had spotted a cluster of fermented Banana's, shooting up the wall in seconds. He collapsed on the three foot wide walkway with a sigh. Again, no one paid any attention to him.

"_That takes care of the climb... the snow seems to be built up along the edges of the wall and it appears their's sled tracks. Maybe I can slide down it?"_ Norman thought as he grabbed his grappling hook and pulled in the rope attached to it, stuffing it into the bag hanging off of his back. With that done he slowly lowered himself from the other side of the wall, touching the sledding embankment made to entertain the men stationed at the complex. He slipped as he touched it, sliding down like a backwards penguin. He stopped almost seconds after the ramp flattened out, still unharmed. After that, he stood up and gazed around, seeing with no men outside the large protected single building he was safe to move around.

His infiltration from the moment he had thrown the grappling hook up had only taken three minutes and he hadn't alerted a single person on his way in. He hoped the rest of his mission would go just as smoothly as he moved to a nearby window, peering inside to see only a single man in his office with his back to the window. He grabbed the suppressor from his bag and screwed it on before pulling his hood down, knocking on the window as he hid the gun behind him. The man immediately turned around.

"Sylvester? Did you lose your key again?" The man asked, unable to tell who it was through the window from the heavy snow that had built up on the glass. He did see the nod from the disguised Jayden outside, and moved to open the window, a cold burst forcing his eyes shut as the glass rose. He opened them again about the same time he felt the barrel of Norman's gun pressed to his head.

"Cry out and your dead." Norman threatened. The man merely gulped and nodded, watching as Norman climbed through the window without ever taking the suppressed gun off of the man's face. Norman spoke again when he was completely inside again, the window shut.

"Now I'm going to ask you some questions. Answer them and you'll live. Do you understand?" Jayden asked. The hostage nodded in return..

"Good. First question. What's here that is so important that Abstergo has to have it in the middle of Alaska to contain it?"

"It's a data center. Every file, every picture, every recording Abstergo has is stored in the servers at the far corner of the building. Alaska was just picked due to the natural cold air the room requires and so the place can be secluded."

Norman frowned, pressing harder into the man's head.

"What? Is technology that advanced you only need a single data center for the entire world?"

"Everything you see on the market is about ten years old. The most advanced stuff we keep for ourselves."

"And your saying that nothing else is being hidden up here?"

"Nothing at all!" The man explained. Norman still felt he wasn't telling him everything but for now he moved forward.

"So this data center. Is their a computer that will allow me to access every file?"

"Yes. It's in the center of said room."

"The login?"

"I have no idea. I work as a janitor and maintenance. I have no idea what it is. But if y-" The man was about to plead when Norman growled.

"No, I'm not done yet. Who has the login information I would need if I would want to copy all these files?"

"That would be the head man of this facility, James Morse. His office is on the north side of the facility, the servers are in the west."

"Whats in the south, the gate side?"

"The garage. All that's in there are several snow mobiles, a few ATVs, two Snowplows, the bosses Jeep Grand Cherokee and a Hind-D."

Norman cursed. If he set off a single alarm and tried to escape, he'd have to deal with the helicopter. He made note to sabotage it later.

"And in the center? Whats between all of this?"

"Bed rooms, the kitchen, a gym... nothing important... is that all?" The man asked. Norman nodded with the man sighing when Norman slammed the butt of his gun into the mans face, sending him knocked out to the floor.

"Sorry, but knocked out is better then dead. See you later." Norman muttered to the downed man as he shoved the man into the open space under his desk, before moving to the wooden door. He looked through the glass window and into the hall outside. The hall was almost empty of all souls, a man and a woman chatting on the south side and a pacing man a few feet away from the office and blocking his way to the Administrators office. Seeing no other path, he inserted the gun into the back of his coat and exited the room, acting as if he was a employee going about his bussiness. Almost immediately the pacing man yelled to him.

"Hey! New guy! Are you busy?" The worried man yelled out, running over to Norman. The F.B.I agent leaned against the door, acting as casual as he could.

"Sort of. I was about to visit James Morse to ask him why my password for the servers isn't working. Do you need something?" Norman questioned, guessing that the man did need him for some task.

"Yea I do, and luckily it has something to do with the boss. Would you give him this and tell him it's from Nathanial Smith? He's pist at the moment, so I don't feel like enduring his wrath. I bet he'll be nice to you though." The package in question was small, easily carried in one hand.

"Sure. I can do it. Anything else?" Norman asked.

"Nope... and thanks... Mr..."

"Belmont. James Belmont." Norman lied, taking the package. After a small nod, he walked through the long hallway in silence, nervous but hiding it. He swore he saw Nathanial staring at him for several moments as he walked, but quickly dismissed his fears and simply continued walking. When he reached the end of the hall he took a left, the only way he could go, and headed down that empty hall. In the center of it was the Administrators office, the door locked. The young agent knocked on it several times and almost immediately got a response.

"Who is it! I told you that it better be important or else your fired!" The man yelled, his voice hard and slightly drunk. Norman drew his pistol and emptied the contents of the package, a brand new watch with a apology note attached to it, and fit his own gun into it. After this he spoke again.

"I'm here to deliver a package from Nathanial Smith. Said it was to make up for his failure and he would like to keep his job."

"He'll keep it if depending on how good that gift is! Get in here, the doors been unlocked." The man ordered, a loud click being heard. True to his word, the door was unlocked and opened easily, Norman walking through it without any hesitation and headed straight to his targets desk. The man himself was older, his hair graying on the ends with the center still a bright red, a large red beard hanging from his face. Norman could smell the alcohol in his breath, but didn't comment on it.

"Well? I can see your hand in the box. What's in it?"

"This." Norman replied as he quickly drew his gun and pressed it to the large man's head, his eyebrows shooting up at the sight.

"Holy... okay, tell Smith he can keep his job and get a promotion! No n-"

"I'm not here for that idiot. I want the login for the computer in the server room, and I'll kill you if you don't give it." Norman replied, confusion flooding the other man's face. He pieced is together after several seconds, his white face draining of the little color it had left.

"What? How did you get past t-"

"Doesn't matter. The point is we killed Audrey Jacobs and we'll kill you to if we don't get access." Norman lied. The thought that the man could just lie about the password had crossed his mind, so simple threatening wouldn't work. He needed to make the man feel true fear.

"What? But I was told the F.B.I killed the man who got Jacobs."

"Miles was suffering from Cancer and would have died a week later. He volunteered to take the fall so we could get the F.B.I off our backs. Now, the password?" Norman asked, the other man beginning to sweat. Jayden knew the other man had cracked, now he just needed to break him.

"Still, your only one Assassin. Even if you kill me you can't get through the everybody else here." The man pointed out.

"Who said I was alone? I have twenty other men waiting outside and I'll I have to do to get them in here is press a button on the satellite phone in my backpack. But I don't see any reason that anyone here has to perish. All I need is the login and password and we can be on our way. If you don't tell me it now, we'll torture and interrogate everyone here until we find out who does have the password. It goes without saying we will get what we want today. It's simply your choice how much blood has to spill out in order for us to gain it."

"User name is father of understanding with spaces between each word. Password is Illuminati."

The man immediately explained when Norman finished. Norman couldn't figure out whether it was because the man was drunk and therefore had a weaker constitution, or if it was because he had been that skilled in breaking him down. He guessed the former, but at this point it didn't matter. He simply did the same thing to him as he did to the repair man earlier, being he clubbed him over the head with his gun and stuffed his body into the open space that a persons legs were supposed to fit into. With that taken care of, he left the room while closing the door behind him and putting his gun back into his coat, heading for the west wing and the server rooms. Again, he walked in silence and passed no one, everyone occupied with something. Norman thought it was a little bit eerie, but he also thought it could be blamed on the fact that it was getting colder with each step he took towards the server rooms.

"_Why does it feel like I forgot something? If someone finds the bodies they'll only activate a alarm. I didn't do anything wrong so far." _Norman thought to comfort himself, the air growing colder and heavier as he approached the room. It was dead center of the west wing, the only way in was through a glass door that was place in the middle of the long wall that blocked entry into the room. Norman calmly opened it, ignoring the cold rush that enveloped him as he strode into the room. The computer it's self, a desktop with cords attached to four black towers surrounding it was the only unique object in the room other then the countless black towers that were exact copies of the four connected to the PC. It was about thirty feet to the computer in the center, a short walk but one that gave the young brown haired man time to grab his satellite phone and call the director.

"Norman. It's only been thirty minutes since you last called. Did something go wrong?"

"On the contrary, I found out what they hid here. It's their main servers that has access to the Abstergo network, the servers themselves containing every file that's ever been accessed on one of their computers. Is is possible for the agency's hackers to access the computer and copy every file?" Norman questioned, gripping the phone to his ear with his left hand while his right typed.

"It is quite possible, but first I must ask you a question. Has anyone seen you?"

"Three people, two of them knocked out. The third thinks I'm a new guy that's just been hired... and I'm logged in. What do you need me to do now?" Norman asked with glee, the login information a perfect match. He was in the root menu at the moment, a search bar and several menus that would take him to the different divisions for Abstergo.

"Go to your work email and login. Once you do so, download the program I left in your inbox and install it. Our hackers can take care of the rest once you finish that." He replied, Norman doing exactly as he said. It took several minutes, but as soon as the program was done a white bar appeared on screen that slowly filled with green.

"Perfect. It should finish downloading in four minutes. As soon as it does, delete the program and get out of there. I'll call you once your in the air about what your next step will be." Ulquiorra replied, excitement in his voice. Norman was also excited, but for a different reason.

"I'll do exactly that sir, but do you know what this means? About all of this?"

"Please be more exact Norman."

"Templars. A secret order pulling strings behind everything. How far is their influence? How long have they been active? If they exist, what else does?" Norman asked, a mixture of curiosity and fear making his voice at this moment.

"I don't know... but for all we know this might be it. We'll find out shortly... unless you already know something."

"I do. The password to the computer was Illuminati. Could they also exist? Could these new world order conspiracy theories be more then that?"

"Even if they do exist we'll take them own Norman. We are to ensure that America remains free... or at least ensure that whoever is pulling the strings is following our opinions." Ulquiorra responded.

"Whoever is pulling the strings? What are you saying? That America should remain controlled by someone other then it's own citizens?" Norman said, anger entering his voice and growing larger with each sentence. He had grown up with the idea that all who lived in America was free. How could he accept otherwise.

"I don't want America to be controlled by some secret group bent on making some new world order, but you need to understand this! When a animal is fed everyday by it's master and one day the master disappears, the pet won't know what to do. It will die because it doesn't know how to take care of it's self. Would we not be doing the same thing to ourselves if we killed our master right now... but this conversation is also irrelevant. For all we know the Templars are the only part of this conspiracy that exist and their extent is only the world markets. The download is almost done and when they are I'll browse through the more important documents and see what I can find."

The several seconds that followed were done so in silence until a loud ping was heard, the bar now completely filled with the message saying every file had been successfully downloaded. Norman then followed his instructions and deleted the program, also making sure to log out of his email and clearing the Internet history and cache. With all traces erased, he picked up the phone.

"I'm done. Can I leave or should I look for anything else while I'm here?"

"No, you did more then I could possibly want. Leave the way y-" The directors voice was interrupted as the blue lights in the room turned red, the alarm system turning on as the sound similar to the alarm of a police car filled the room. Norman cursed.

"What did your men do?"

"Nothing! What did you do?" Ulquiorra asked in return.

"I don't know... I'll call you when I get back onto the plane. I might still be able to sneak o-"

The door slammed open as Norman ended the call and vaulted over the computer, taking cover behind one of the large black towers. Six armed guards walked in, each of them dressed in shining black armor with military grade assault rifles in their hands. Nathanial himself followed after, slamming the door shut and locking it before putting the key back in his pocket.

"Your trapped James, if that's your real name. I'm the head of the security division for the computers and while it's perfectly normal for someone to log in here, it's not normal for the administrator to log in when he's knocked out!"

Norman frowned, peeking from his cover as the guards flocked out through the room. Luckily for him, they were moving slower then a crippled turtle and with thirty feet to where he was and another thirty feet in every other direction, the six men had a lot of ground to cover. All he had to do was to wait for them to get away from the door, then book for it and hope he breaks through it before he got shot. But the biggest thing on his mind at the moment was how the man found the corpse.

"_No one is that paranoid that you check under your bosses desk when you see they're not in the room. Why did he investigate... unless-" _

"You want to know how I knew you weren't one of us James? You dropped the watch outside of Morse's room! All you had to do was give him the stupid object and I would have never guessed you were a Assassin. Guess they always send the morons out here to die!"

The man gloated, taking a air of superiority that bugged Norman more then the cold air that was freezing him to the bone. It was at that moment that the guards were close enough that in a few mores seconds they would discover him. He jumped out and started running for the guard six feet in front of him.

"I f-" Was the only thing the guard could yell before Norman shoved him to the ground, only losing a tiny bit of speed that he quickly regained. It took Nathaniel to yell out that Norman was making a break for it before the guards turned their guns on him and opened fire. Almost every bullet missed their target as Norman covered the thirty feet in seconds, burying themselves in the black towers instead of the white clothed man. But two projectiles found their target, one burying itself into Norman's shoulder while the other nicked the small but extra fat that was attached to the back of Norman's leg, also called the Gastrocnemius muscle. He felt both bullets and cried out in pain, the bullets hitting simultaneously due to the absence of towers because of how close he was to the single exit. He crashed into Nathaniel, the two falling through the glass door and hitting the wooden floor outside the room. Norman didn't have time to admire the fine workmanship put into it as he broke into a sprint, heading for the south wing as Nathaniel screamed after him. He had just managed to turn the corner right as the security guards exited the server room and opened fire, the bullets hitting the wall instead of his flesh. He never looked back, never getting the chance to see how close he was to losing his life. He only thought about the task ahead.

"_The walls will be locked down by this point, the only way out being that metal gate. If I can hot wire that Jeep Grand Cherokee I can plow through it, but I'll still need to take care of that Hind-D before I leave or it'll chase me all the way back to the plane... F-" _He cursed as he tripped several feet away from the door leading into the garage, the wound in his shoulder having bled enough to steak down his chest and onto his shoes, causing him to slip. He brought himself up, tolerating the pain as best he could, and opened the door before slowly shutting it, hoping that the guards would run past the door. They did, each assault rifled man running without even peeking through the glass as Norman limped to the helicopter. The agent knew he had to act fast, that such a trip wouldn't stop the guards for long, but he was thankful it had slowed them down at all.

"_The door is still shut, but assuming their boss is smart the jeep will have a clicker inside that will open the door and lead outside... but how can I destroy the helicopter? I could use my lighter... no, I don't have one since I gave up smoking two weeks ago. Screw my life!" _Norman thought as he reached the copter, ripping the gas cap off of the vehicle as he looked around for something to ignite the fuel with. It quickly became apparent that nothing could be used for that purpose.

"_Think Norman think! You don't have to necessarily blow it up, you just have to disable it... of course! I can't ignite it by shooting the tank, but I can drain it of it's fuel!" _Norman thought as he drew his gun and opened fire. He used half of his clip, eleven shots, and spread them out over the tank that hung from the bottom of the vehicle, the fuel quickly draining out from each shot. He guessed at that moment the guards knew they had been tricked, so he ran as fast he could to the Jeep, reaching it in seconds. He guessed he had effectively half a minute before the men would get there.

"_30... 29... 28..." _He counted in his head as he tried the door. It was locked, forcing him to break the window with a single hit of his gun. He immediately dove in feet first, landing in a up right position.

"_24... 23... 22..."_ He pushed each of the three buttons set to open doors and shouted in glee at the sight of the door opening, the large metal gate being the only thing that stood between him and what he considered freedom at the moment. That, and the fact that he still had to hot wire the car.

His gun still in hand, he shot out the metal screws that held the casing in place, the lower half dropping like a rock and exposing the wires.

"_17... 16... 15... move faster Norman!"_ He grabbed the two red wires that were used to prove the car with power and snapped them from the cylinder before stripping the ends and tying the exposed wiring together. The electrical system sprung to life.

"_9... 8... 7... almost done!"_ He thought as he repeated the process with the brown wires, the starter. He again detached them from the cylinder and exposed the ends, but instead of tying them he merely touched them together. The car started and Norman shouted in triumph, a shout matched by the arrival of the armed guards.

"Someone open the roof and get that Hind-D up in the air. The rest of you mount get on those snowmobiles and ATV's. I'll go check and take the Jeep. He couldn't have gotten f-"

Norman slammed the pedal to the floor as the car shot forward, having heard enough from the men. He was out of the hanger in three seconds and plowing through the metal gate at forty miles per hour in five. That gate fell like the Berlin wall from the massive car.

"_Finally. Now it's back to the plane a-... burn with the devil Abstergo... or will you send all of your men to me so I can do it for you?"_ Norman complained, several snow mobiles catching up to him. Two passengers were on each one, a total of six following him with two taking his left and right side while the remainder followed from behind. Their assault rifles stuck out, being the only black object in the flurry of white that covered everything else.

"_To easy." _He thought as they opened fire. He immediately slammed the breaks, his car slowing down and the trunk smashing into the two snow followers behind him. He immediately sped up after that, the other Abstergo employees turning around and rushing like a bull, firing everything they had into the car. He ducked under the steering wheel as the bullets hit nothing but glass and metal. When he looked up again, he saw his transport, the cargo plane.

"_Wait a second... is he moving? The cowards running! What the heck are you doing!"_ Norman cursed in his head as he sped his car back to max speed, the snow mobiles slowly catching up behind him. The plane was not only moving, but within several seconds off the ground and into the air, Norman stunned at being abandoned. He had expected the getaway to be the least of his problems, but as he watched the plane take off into the sky as the men following him got closer by the second, he could only curse as he let go of the steering wheel and fell back into his seat.

Then, as if to screw him over even more, the powers at be decided his car should hit a large rock, the only unburied object in the wasteland. The car hit the rock at a hundred twenty miles per hour, destroying the wheel and launching the man into the air, who at the time wasn't even fazed how much of a bad turn his life had taken. The car landed on it's hood before it began its roll, it's front rolling under it's back about five times before it again rested on it's hood, the car compacted to a much smaller size. But this hadn't killed Norman, who shot the hinges off of the mangled car door as he kicked it out, his formerly white figure now painted a mixture of black and red as the car's oil seeped onto him. He crawled from the car, pure rage on his face as the roar of the oncoming snowmobiles drained out his own panting. He in return drew his gun, ripping off the suppressor as he struggled to stand up.

"You want to take me? Just try it! Your going to need something short of a army if you want to take me!"

Norman yelled out as he managed to fully stand, raising his pistol as he fired a single shot at the snowmobile two hundred feet away. The driver slumped forward as it began to turn, rolling and killing both of it's passengers as Norman heard a ringing go off. His satellite phone, somehow intact, was ringing several feet away. Limping over as he watched the second snowmobile turn around, he picked it up and once again recognized the voice of his boss.

"Norman? What happened? The pilot-"

"Is a coward who left me here to die. What the heck am I supposed to do now?" Norman asked, turning back to the wreckage of a car that was now burning brightly. He immediately limped away, fearing a explosion.

"The pilot said our contract is over, so the best I can do is get a helicopter to pick you up in a hour and a half. Can you last that long?" Ulquiorra asked.

"If I have no other choice I will. Anything else?" Norman asked.

"Yea. Two more details. The first is you must hold onto this phone. Lose it and we'll have no idea where you residing. The second is if you get caught, they will torture you. I generally don't encourage suicide, but considering this is a black op..."

"You don't need to tell me that. See you in D.C." Norman replied as he ended the call and looked around him. The cold, harsh winter had killed everything in sight, the only thing that went on for miles was snow, snow, and more snow. Which immediately gave Norman a idea. At this point he was about fifty feet away from the burning wreckage, the fire providing the only illumination as a mixture of cloudy weather and a setting sun had darkened the sky. So, using the mixture of snow and darkness to his advantage, he laid down and buried himself in a light layer of snow, the only part that wasn't covered was a small opening for his nose and eyes. His parka and pants, while damaged, still managed to retain a large amount of heat in them, ensuring that he wouldn't die of hypothermia that day.

Inviable, abandoned, broken and bleeding, the F.B.I agent Norman Jayden still managed to let out a small smile as his eyes closed, once again falling to sleep as he finally gave into exhaustion, the sound of snowmobiles being the last thing he heard before he allowed sleep to take him.

A silent prayer for safety was the last thought in his mind as he drifted to sleep.

**End Act I**

**Author's Note: Ironically, this is my second story to be posted but the first act I've ever finished. Yes, it's short, but unlike most of my stories that are divided into three acts this will be divided by five, maybe even six acts.  
>The hot wiring the car works however. I myself own a four door Jeep, not a Grand Cherokee but a 04 Liberty and by looking at the wiring when I removed the casing I figured that this would work, although I would recommend wearing insulated or rubber gloves when you tried it. However, since the two cars are different I did consult a self proclaimed car expert about it and he told me that the method used would work. If anyone who owns a Grand Cherokee and would like it test it for me though, I would be very thankful. Not thankful enough though to fix your car however.<strong>

**With that said, thank you for reading and leave a comment or review!**


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